


A fawn lies dead

by dragoonsbeard



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Is Not Oblivious, Late Night Conversations, Lies, Reveal, Revelations, Secrets, Trust, emrys - Freeform, kindof, merlin is Emrys, tired Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27719251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragoonsbeard/pseuds/dragoonsbeard
Summary: Arthur wonders the castle at night to find a man. Emrys.He was not Merlin, And yet maybe he was.Regardless Arthur knew now, himself to be a blinded king.
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	A fawn lies dead

Darkness seeped through every fissure of stone and step, nightfall brought with it a silence. Still like the woodlands before a predator emerges from its leaves. This strange pause of time where no night owl made its self known, and the only breathe of life would be from a dash of flame.

An orange wick of candle and torch sputtered in the dark, and Arthur, as he wondered these castle halls without cause for direction, pondered on its silence. Made him question whether he was asleep, even though he knew to be awake. This king remained mystified as to what beckoned him into the twisted depths within Camelot's citadel, and yet he followed this strange call through stone arches, down spirals of stone, even to the hidden ancloves worn smooth by servants who frequented them.

In a haze Arthur found himself lured to a tranquil corridor, tucked away in the dust of a forgotten western wing. At its side a curve of clean cut stone, hollowed from its body and replaced with a line of blurred glass. At the foot of this delicate window, cradled in its polished concave. Sat merlin.

The boy lay lax against its elegant design, unconcerned that its thin surface is the only barrier between him and the inky depths below. The moon offered no illuminations that night, and so the only luminescence brought to him was the fickle sheen of flame that glinted upon the glass at his back.

Merlin did not seek to greet Arthur, instead his focus remained stolen by the licks of torch light that danced over their meeting. Arthur too, did not speak. Overcome by a daze which seemed to follow him this night.

Shadows which escaped what little luminescence offered to them, clung to the line of Merlins jaw, refining it, polishing its details clean, until all that prevailed was a mouth absent of the foolish grins that had once decorated it. This darkness bleed up into the delicate swell of his cheek and lingered in steady eyes. A collection of features unmarred by expression or pleasant thought, cast an unsettled strike into Arthurs heart. As he watched upon the figure of his friend he could not deny a strange doubt that this this man was someone who he did not recognize.

No _this_ is merlin, one that he has not yet to witness. Arthur could see now, the ease in which it lined his shoulders, like a coat long worn soft.

How had he not been privy to such a sight, with every waking moment he had spent with Merlin, the man’s foolish grin, and delicate nature that rivalled that of a fawn. Here stood _no_ sweet creature- not in this darkened corridor not at this night. Its wobbled hooves devoured by the steady presence of something else.

“Merlin”

Eyes possessed by a tempest that might consume you, if left at the heart of its attentions for too long, calmly found him. Arthur gazed into them, a maw of lightning and blue so deep- it rattled courage himself.

Emrys did not seclude himself this night, not behind willows of lost feelings, eroded by weight and destiny. Perhaps it might have been Arthur, the sight of him- wisps of gold that burned about his temple in the mock of a crown, brought upon him by torch light. Perhaps it were the two cerulean orbs moored upon Merlin's self, at the glimpse of his servant whilst he is true. _Alt_ _hough_ Arthur had no reason to believe Merlin had ever lied before now, about anything. But as the mighty king of Camelot begun to ponder and _snatch_ upon moments long since fleeting, revelation came to him, but what exactly, of he did not know.

“Loyalty” Arthur begun, his voice a low timber that echoed about smoothed stone. “Is a fickle thing for some.”

Thoughts of betrayals plagued him, of their treachery fueled by a reasoning that Arthur could not grasp. Of people once thought dear, twisted with vengeance for things that Arthur did not understand, nor know of. Was he not _just_ and _fair?_ did he not _care_ for his people? Were these things not enough, was he not enough. What more could he offer for the prosperity of his people? For _peace._

Two jewels of turbulent sapphire swiftly fixed themselves upon the keeper of such desperate thoughts. “Only for those with fickle hearts, or broken ones”

Arthurs teeth worried at his lip, a brief moment of insecurity as he contemplated his friends solemn figure “And what of _your heart.”_ a mere whisper _“Merlin.”_

Emrys blinked, a feather of sable lashes which fanned across his cheeks in a leisured motion. A parody of a sleek feline, a creature that would rob itself of sight in moments of comfort- as if he were _unaware_ that Arthurs words held weight.

“It is... heavy” he had hummed, a mellow tone thick with a cadence brought on by a life beyond Camelot. “to move from whence i left it”

“And if it were not so heavy?” Arthur intoned. His mind fixed upon an image of a prowling beast, its claws sheathed in the presence of its master. Soft and loyal beneath the hands of a hunter that fed it. Could such a thing be resigned to the intent of its keeper, too loyal to leave a side that might skin it for its leather and fur.

Arthur thought this as he gazed upon merlin, his steady posture and eyes that remained lax and slow. Merlin, sweet clumsy _Merlin._ What lay stained upon his claws?, the ones hidden so far from Arthurs sight he believed him a doe.

Bound deep by these revelations the king startled at his servant’s answer.

“It would stay” Emrys had vowed, his pale hands pressed into the stonework “always”

For Arthur, these words were all he needed. Perhaps in the past he would have ruined himself at the prospect of secrets, jumped at the throat of another who would lie to him. And yet, _perhaps._ Just _perhaps_ , all these betrayals of people thought sisters, wives and uncles. Had pruned the man’s perception of standards, of trust and honesty. For now Arthur did not care for what secrets Merlin might have kept, for this strange sight of him, shadowed eyes and marble face. Instead Arthur held fast upon Merlin reassurance. Of _loyalty_. That is all Arthur needed, _loyalty-_ someone that wont leave like everyone else had.

“That is all I ask for”

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed Arthur to see Merlin when he's not pretending. like for once.  
> Also because Arthur needs some credit where its due.


End file.
